


and I would fly (2)500 miles (just to be the one to fake marry you)

by SapphicScholar



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Mutual Pining, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:48:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25613848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphicScholar/pseuds/SapphicScholar
Summary: “What are you going to do? Fly off somewhere and find someone to be partner number five?” Any traces of laughter in her tone disappeared when Cat’s head tilted the way it did whenever she was considering something. “No! You can’t just—just—go grab someone! You have to get to know them and fall in love and make sure they’re good enough for you and—”“Oh, Kara, it’s not the eighteenth century. I’m not pledging my eternal devotion.”“But…”Cat tapped her finger along her lower lip, and Kara tried not to stare. “Now there was that lovely photographer over in Milan. Not terribly intelligent, but…”“I’ll do it!” Kara practically yelled.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Cat Grant
Comments: 50
Kudos: 431
Collections: SuperCat Christmas in July 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greenfanfic304](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenfanfic304/gifts).



> Both prompts (fake marriage and friends with benefits) were lots of fun, so I tried to include elements of them both in the fic. Hope you enjoy!

“Anything else for you?” Kaitlyn asked as she dropped off Kara’s pastry and coffee.

“No, I think I’m good, thanks.” As she tucked into her second sticky bun of the morning, Kara began scrolling through the headlines. She’d learned the hard way not to assume a day off was a decent excuse for being behind.

There were more articles and think pieces about the environmental protection act that was stalled in the House. A bit of handwringing over a few small dips in the stock market. Something about National City’s baseball team. Gossip items that Kara really couldn’t care about.

Except a specific name caught her attention and made her scroll back up.

Cat Grant.

Specifically, “National City’s missing darling Cat Grant set to be wed again? An inside source suggests maybe five times is the charm with this media mogul.”

Would Cat…?

Surely Cat would have said something. Not that she and Kara talked much about their personal lives, but she’d thought, well, after everything maybe Cat could have at least _mentioned_ a new fiancé-to-be. Not that she _owed_ it to Kara. A few weeks spent groping each other the minute they were alone two years ago did not a relationship make. Besides, the whole point had been to get it out of their systems. (It hadn’t worked, of course, at least not for Kara. Clearly Cat had managed it.)

A quick search brought up a slew of headlines, all from that morning, speculating on the identity of the new Mr. Grant. Kara rolled her eyes. Apparently they’d all fallen prey to collective amnesia and forgotten about marriage number two and Cat’s ex- _wife_. Still, she scrolled through the articles, already hating herself a little for giving them clicks and views they didn’t deserve. Especially when so many of them were rude, talking about Cat like she was already aging out of the window of time when any man could possibly find her attractive and marriageable. Which was ridiculous. Because Cat was as gorgeous as ever. And anyone would be lucky to marry her.

Swallowing down the hurt at, apparently, being the last to know, Kara left a large tip on the table and walked outside, already calling Cat’s personal cell.

“What?” Cat snapped when she answered.

Kara blinked. These days they didn’t speak on the phone as often as they had during Cat’s first year in DC, but Kara hadn’t heard that level of venom since her first few months working as Cat’s assistant. “Uh, are you okay?”

“You tell me, Kara. I woke up to a dozen voicemails about my impending nuptials and a hideous bouquet of flowers from Lois with a card asking me if marriage number five entitled me to a free sixth ceremony.”

“Oh. I guess you weren’t ready for the news to leak then, huh?”

The silence lasted long enough that Kara might have thought Cat had hung up, if not for the soft sounds of Cat’s breathing still coming down the line. Finally, Cat spoke again. “Excuse me?”

“Um…I mean, I saw the headlines. And I was, uh, calling to say—to say congratulations. I’m, you know, happy you found someone. That makes you happy.” She forced herself to smile, even though Cat couldn’t see it. She could do this, be there for her, be happy for her, even. With a forced little laugh, she added, “Must’ve been a whirlwind romance, huh? Didn’t even have time to mention seeing someone.”

“You think I would—” Cat cut herself off. “Talk to me when you’re ready to be reasonable.”

Kara hadn’t even gotten out a full protest before the line went dead.

She called again. It rang once before Cat sent her to voicemail. The next call didn’t even make it through a full ring. Her texts were summarily ignored.

Kara couldn’t help feeling like she was missing something. Clearly she’d screwed up somewhere along the way.

After half an hour spent flying laps around the city, desperately hoping for something to catch her attention and coming up blank, Kara sent a quick text to Alex: “Be gone for the morning. Call if it’s an emergency. Love you!”

Pocketing her phone, Kara took off for DC, landing out in the Virginia suburbs where she changed back into her regular clothes and hopped on the metro, letting it carry her closer and closer to Cat. One line switch and a short walk later, Kara found herself just a block away from the townhouse Cat had purchased out in Logan Circle when it became clear that DC wasn’t going to be just another quick stop on her world tour.

Even if Kara hadn’t memorized Cat’s address the day she bought the place—in case there were an emergency, obviously—it would have been hard to miss, surrounded as it was by crowds of reporters and photographers.

Pulling away from the crowds, Kara sent a quick text to Cat: “I’m outside.”

A moment later her phone rang. “Hel—”

“You’re _what_?”

“I’m outside.”

A beat. “Fine. Come in the back way. Security will let you up.”

Kara tried not to shiver at the memories as she skirted around the back and down the alleyway that used to be as familiar to her as her own stairwell. Only this time, it was a brawny Secret Service agent type waiting for her, not Cat, and when he let her in the door, she was left all alone, no lips urgently searching out her own or hands clawing at the clothing that was only ever in the way.

“Cat?” Kara called, her soft voice still sounding too loud in the quiet of the house.

“Upstairs.”

Every step brought with it a flood of memories. The fact that their little…tryst, or whatever it was Cat had called it, only lasted a month mattered little. Not when she could still remember the time they hadn’t even made it through the kitchen before Cat had Kara sprawled across the countertops, muttering something about them needing a good bleaching anyway. Not when her foot still knew to avoid the creaky floorboard from the few times she’d come over when Carter was around and asleep upstairs. Not when her heart still thudded at memories of tamer nights, the times they’d curled up watching movies or playing overly competitive rounds of Scrabble or talking until the stress from their days seemed a distant memory.

She finally found Cat up on the third floor, curled into the comfortable sofa, the news playing on mute on the large television mounted on the wall. She had her feet tucked under her and her glasses perched on her nose as she scrolled through something on her iPad.

“Hey,” Kara murmured.

“Kara.”

She took a deep breath. “Clearly I upset you.”

“How astute,” Cat bit out.

“Look, I’m trying, okay? I am here, trying to be happy for you and your new person, and I’m sorry if I’m not exactly pulling it off, but—”

“I am not getting married.”

Kara’s thoughts ground to a halt. “What?”

“I fail to see what’s so confusing about that sentence.”

“But…they said…”

“Am I supposed to text you congratulations the next time the _National Enquirer_ prints a story about Supergirl fathering sextuplets?”

Kara scoffed. “It’s not the same. You—you could be getting married. Why wouldn’t someone want to marry you?”

“It’s a little hard to get married when you’re not dating anyone.”

Ignoring the way her whole body lit up at that little fact, Kara asked, “You’re not?”

“I haven’t even dated anyone in four years.” She gave Kara a pointed look that Kara couldn’t quite decipher.

“Oh. Really?”

“Yes, really.” Her voice was venomous again, and Kara shrunk back. “And now I’ll have the joy of getting to tell that to the same tabloids that are currently placing bets on whether the newest Mr. Grant will even make it to the altar with my track record.”

“Then why would the _Post_ be saying you are? They’re not some random tabloid that just goes around printing fake stories to sell copies.”

Cat gave a little sniff. “I may have insulted the society page editor’s husband. Rather publicly.”

Kara rubbed a hand along her forehead. “So what? This is some…petty revenge thing?”

“Do keep up, Kara.”

“Well then just tell the truth. You aren’t marrying any of those boring suits that everyone is speculating about.”

“Did you know, I didn’t make _The Hill_ ’s 50 Most Beautiful People list this year?”

Trying to follow whatever turn the conversation had made without her knowledge, Kara shot back, “But last year you were in the top 10!”

“Yes, and last year some insipid online-only listicle generator pointed out that I was the oldest woman on the list. By a decade.”

“Oh-kay.”

“And now they’re suggesting this is my last chance at capturing a husband.”

“Okay, but it’s not. I mean, look at you!”

“Kara, have you learned nothing from your years in journalism? Perception is everything, and I will _not_ be humiliated like this.”

“What are you going to do? Fly off somewhere and find someone to be partner number five?” Any traces of laughter in her tone disappeared when Cat’s head tilted the way it did whenever she was considering something. “No! You can’t just—just—go grab someone! You have to get to know them and fall in love and make sure they’re good enough for you and—”

“Oh, Kara, it’s not the eighteenth century. I’m not pledging my eternal devotion.”

“But…”

Cat tapped her finger along her lower lip, and Kara tried not to stare. “Now there was that lovely photographer over in Milan. Not terribly intelligent, but…”

“I’ll do it!” Kara practically yelled.

“Hmm?” Cat blinked, as if just remembering that Kara was in the room.

“I, uh, I’ll marry you. If you want that. I mean, you know.” A bubble of nervous laughter burst out of her. “I—well, people know you know me. But I haven’t worked for you in a while, and I got promoted almost four years ago, and people have seen us out and about in DC a few times, even with Carter once or twice, so it wouldn’t be the most unbelievable thing. I mean, maybe that you’d choose me, but—”

“Kara,” Cat cut in, watching with a small smile as Kara practically tripped over her words to stop talking. “Think about what you’re offering.”

Kara nodded. “I’d marry you.”

“You’re young and”—Cat let out a shuddering exhale—“this would mean…tethering yourself to me. For at least some amount of time. This side of your life would become public, too. People will talk.”

With a shrug, Kara took a half-step closer to Cat. “Let them.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you do this for me?”

“I’d do anything for you.” Kara listened to the catch in Cat’s breathing, to the way her heart seemed to leap into double-time.

“You should think about it first.”

“What’s there to think about?”

“What about seeing other people? You won’t be able to date around if you’re supposed to be married to me.”

Kara shrugged. “I haven’t dated since…since, you know, us.”

“Oh.”

A nod of her head. “Yep.”

“Well. Be that as it may, that overprotective sister of yours surely wouldn’t—”

“She knew.” Putting up a hand to forestall Cat’s objections, Kara added, “She guessed. Apparently all the trips to DC weren’t as subtle as I wanted them to be. And then when you, uh, when we decided things were over, she…she could tell.” Cat’s brow furrowed, but Kara plowed on. “She still thinks—whatever, she knows we still talk, knows I come visit you sometimes. I think she’d probably just say, ‘I told you so,’ or something if I announced we were getting married.”

“And what of your foster mother? Other family? Friends? They would all know.”

She couldn’t quite keep a note of steely anger from of her voice as she shot back, “I’m not the one who tried to hide what we had, Cat.” She took the smallest amount of satisfaction in the way Cat’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. “If I’m happy, they’ll be happy for me.”

“But would you be?” Cat’s voice was practically a whisper, and for the first time since Kara had arrived, she reached out, letting her fingers skim along Kara’s forearm. “Happy, that is.”

 _No_ , a little voice in Kara’s head screamed. She would be absolutely miserable having to pretend that she was just in it for a bit of good publicity for Cat. But then again, it would mean getting to see Cat more regularly. Getting to go out with her and hold her hand in public and maybe even kiss her—for the cameras, of course. And it might be torture, but at least it would be a particularly exquisite kind of torture.

She tangled her fingers with Cat’s. “You know I like spending time with you.” A shrug of her shoulders. “This just gives me more of an excuse to do it.”

“And you’re sure? You don’t want time to reconsider?”

“I’m sure. There’s no one I’d rather fake marry than you, Cat.”

“My mother will be irate.” She could barely hide the gleeful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Well then,” Kara said, dropping down to one knee. “Will you make your mother the least happy woman on earth and marry me?”


	2. Chapter 2

The following hours were spent in a blur of action and phone calls and organizing, the likes of which Kara hadn’t seen since the build-up to the launch party Cat threw for the first big Supergirl issue of _CatCo Magazine_.

Some credible rumor was circulated to one of the tabloids, and soon enough, almost all of the paparazzi had dispersed, off to torment someone new. Then there were phone calls to make. First, Eliza and Alex and Carter were told the truth, although none of them quite bought the line about it all being fake, just a casual marriage between friends. Then a string of jewelers and personal shoppers were brought in—“I’m not leaving the house with you on my arm in some old Levi’s and a Hanes t-shirt. It only works if people believe us.”—and by the end of the day, Kara had a new wardrobe, and they both sported new rings on their fingers. Kara swallowed down the disappointment at not being able to design something for Cat, knowing that would well and truly exceed the bounds of a fake relationship. It was better this way. It had to be.

By the time evening rolled around, they had been zipped into dresses that complemented each other without veering into matching territory; rings had been slipped onto fingers with little ceremony; and reservations had been made at Pineapple & Pearls, probably bumping someone with a little less name recognition down onto standby.

“Last chance,” Cat murmured as they reached the front door. “Are you sure?”

Kara squeezed Cat’s hand. “As I’ll ever be.”

A day of nothing to report on Cat had left her block almost entirely empty, though Cat kept her fingers laced together with Kara’s as they walked to the car. During the ride across town, they skimmed more articles speculating on the identity of Cat’s mystery suitor, and Kara barely bit back a scoff at some of the names being proposed. As if _any_ of them were worthy of Cat.

When they finally pulled up to the restaurant, Cat gave Kara one last out, but Kara simply shook her head and clutched Cat’s hand together.

There were no crowds of reporters waiting for them, but once they had been led to their table, Kara could hear the few whispers around them. A few were simply pointing out a notable DC face—one in the sea of senators and representatives and ambassadors who could be found out and about on any given night. But one or two had clearly read the _Post_ that morning, and suddenly Kara found herself under scrutiny as they speculated about who she might be.

“Now the portions here are rather small,” Cat whispered. “Obviously feel free to order as much as you want, but you can also order something more…filling when we get back to my house, if you would prefer.”

Kara’s smile turned genuine at the idea that Cat was looking out for her, even when it came to the little details. “Thanks.”

Kara had worried that things might be awkward out in public, at least now that they were trying to look like a couple, but Cat made it easy, chatting about work, asking Kara about Snapper and the latest series of articles she’d been writing. Kara wished Cat would see this, too, see how _good_ they were together, how things simply…worked.

By the time they were eating, Kara had nearly forgotten about the people around them.

At least until Cat’s foot slid up along the inside of her calf, making her choke on her wine as she wheezed and tried to cover the shudder that had run through her full body. Not that she was very successful, if Cat’s smirk was anything to go by.

“Dessert, darling?” Cat asked, daintily placing her fork down as she shifted her plate to the side.

“I, uh, yeah.” It was about all she could manage under the full weight of Cat’s attention. “You, uh, you look great. Gorgeous, really.” She did, her skin practically glowing in the soft, warm candlelight from their table.

“As do you. We should make a note—that shade of blue flatters you.”

“Yeah, my sister, she, uh, always said blue was my color.”

“Mm, yes, something Scully was right about.”

“Hey.”

“Sorry,” Cat murmured, though she didn’t look particularly contrite. Then again, she’d overheard Alex trying to set Kara up with some guy while they were cuddled in bed one night and had never quite moved on from that moment. Not that Alex had any reason to think Kara wasn’t single. There was nothing that screamed “this is an exclusive romantic relationship” about a midnight phone call and proposition that followed a frustrated, “Tell me why, when I have put more than 2,500 miles between us, I still cannot stop thinking about you.”

Over a dessert that was ostensibly Kara’s alone, but ended up being shared far more than the “one bite” Cat had requested, Cat let her fingers trail up and along Kara’s hand, drawing out small shivers and making Kara’s cheeks flush a light shade of pink—a flush that didn’t leave her for the rest of the meal. On the car ride home, they found a photo of exactly that moment making the rounds on Twitter, along with zoomed in close-ups of their rings and someone’s deep dive into Kara’s life. And Kara reminded herself, for the tenth time that evening, that it was all for show. Not that her body remembered it when Cat led her up the stairs to her townhouse and kissed her ever so softly on the lips before drawing her through the door.

And there were no cameras inside. No reason to continue the façade. But Kara’s hands sought out Cat’s hips as her lips claimed Cat’s once more. She’d later blame it on getting caught up in the moment, on muscle memory, on being all too used to slipping through the door together, then falling back against it until they could manage to make it up the stairs (or, on a few memorable occasions, not).

But Cat wasn’t pushing Kara away. Instead, Cat was gasping into her mouth, hooking one leg up around her hips as she tangled her hands in Kara’s hair.

“Fuck,” Kara groaned, as Cat’s mouth trailed along her jaw and nipped at that spot right below her ear that turned her knees to jello.

Even though Kara could still hear Cat’s heart thundering, Cat pulled back then, pupils blown wide and lips swollen. “You know we don’t have to—this is certainly not anything I assumed would happen.”

“Right.” Kara swallowed and lowered Cat to the ground, taking a step back. “Right, yeah, that was just—just for show. And obviously this isn’t.” The laugh she managed was high-pitched and desperate. “I can, you know, go home. I guess I’ll need to fly back for the morning, but—”

“Kara. Breathe.” She took in a gulping breath of air. “I didn’t mean… I wouldn’t want to presume, but that does not mean I have no interest.” She shook out her hair and stood a little taller, though the effect was ruined somewhat by the smeared lipstick. “We always did have fun.”

“Fun. Right,” Kara repeated, her voice hollow.

“Of course, you’re welcome to the guest room if you prefer.”

But the thought of being in Cat’s house, close enough to Cat to touch and voluntarily not doing so was enough to have Kara shaking her head and pulling Cat back into her.

Torture. Exquisite fucking torture.

\---

“Well,” Cat sighed as Kara collapsed back down on the pillow next to her. “We haven’t lost it.”

“No. No, we have not.” Which still seemed like a massive understatement, considering Kara’s still-trembling thighs and the claw marks she’d have all down her back if Cat still had those red sunlamps.

“There should be a shirt or two of yours still in the bottom drawer if you’d like to spend the night,” Cat added, rolling out her shoulders as she sat up.

Once Cat had left to wash her face, Kara poked around and found two of her softest t-shirts in Cat’s drawer. She tried (and failed) not to read too much into the fact that they were sitting near the top of the pile, like they might be part of her regular rotation. Even if they were, it didn’t have to mean anything. Alex still had exes’ sweatshirts that had lasted far longer than the relationships ever had. Cat hadn’t promised her feelings; she’d promised her fun and a fake relationship.

Still, Kara had a hard time making herself believe that, especially when Cat curled into her side as they were drifting off to sleep that night.

\---

The following weeks were a blur of gossip pieces and photo ops and transcontinental flights. Kara spent her days working hard on her articles to make sure that the few sidelong glances being shot her way in the office didn’t turn into anything nastier, although Snapper assured her that her job was safe in his own special way—“You’ve already won yourself a Pulitzer, Ponytail. You earned your chair here all on your own. Now just show them all you should keep it.”

Since the tabloids had figured out that Kara worked primarily out of National City, she managed to keep most of her weeknights free for Supergirl duties, though she’d fly over to DC on weekends to be seen around town with Cat and give the occasional interview. On the weekends Carter was around and had time not filled with homework and extracurriculars to hang out with them, the gossip rags would talk about their “family outings,” and Kara pretended like she wasn’t filled with longing at the thought of bringing this pair of people she cared for so deeply into her family. Then, so long as National City could make do with just the occasional appearance of J’onn’s “Supergirl,” Kara would spend the night refamiliarizing herself with Cat’s body and acting like it wasn’t anything more than sex for her.

As the first month turned into the second, they fell into an easy routine. Days spent with Carter meant brunches at Ted’s Bulletin, where Kara and Carter would challenge each other to see who could finish one of the giant cinnamon buns first—Kara won almost every week, and the one time she lost really wasn’t her fault, not when Cat had whispered in her ear about the things she’d like to be eating with that level of enthusiasm right before they started—followed by trips to museums and national monuments. And nights out with Cat meant fancy dinners and shows at the Kennedy Center, the National Theatre, and the Folger, where Cat would hold Kara’s hand in the lobby and let herself be tucked into Kara’s side once they were seated in the heavily air-conditioned theater.

As spring turned into summer and the second month into the third, the media buzz around them began to die down, although neither Cat nor Kara dared to mention it. Even though the tabloids might not care if they skipped a weekend, Kara wouldn’t miss her time with the Grants for all the world, and she figured Cat would appreciate the stability of a routine.

She didn’t think anyone else would even notice the increasingly unnecessary amount of time she chose to spend in DC—well, besides Alex, who had been asking her about how she was feeling on a near-daily basis. But then, over precariously tall cones from T. Sweet’s, Carter nonchalantly asked, “So, have you told my mom you still love her yet?”

After swallowing down the large chunk of cookie dough she’d inhaled, Kara managed a rather unconvincing, “Wha—what do you mean? Still? Love her?”

He gave Kara a fairly decent imitation of Cat’s one-eyebrow-arched-stare, but he wasn’t at her level yet, and Kara maintained her silence.

“Come on, you don’t have to be here every weekend, but you are. Mom’s literally working all day today and tomorrow, but you still flew in just to see her for a few minutes.”

“I wanted to see you, too!”

And there was that soft smile that made him look more like the kid she’d gotten to know in Cat’s office than the young man he was turning into it. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s great hanging out with you. But also, you’re totally in love with my mom.”

“Carter,” Kara sighed.

“It’s cool. She’s in love with you, too.”

“I—we shouldn’t be talking about this. Besides, it’s not—I’m doing her a favor, that’s all.”

The glare was more Cat-like this time. “Yeah, and so it’s just a coincidence that she hasn’t gone on a single date in four years?”

“I don’t get it. Why does that matter?”

“Kara,” he huffed. “Think about it. She promoted you. Then, once you weren’t working for her anymore, suddenly you guys got all close and stuff. Like, she would tell me about your articles over dinner, even though she had a whole rule about no work at the table. And then when we were traveling, you were the only person she kept in touch with. Like, at all.”

“I mean…”

“And you guys hung out all the time when we first moved to DC.”

Kara’s face blanched. “What?”

“Your cape. It’s loud in the wind.”

“I, uh…”

“Look, I—whatever, okay. But Mom was happy when she was spending time with you. And then suddenly you were gone, and she was sad and spent all her free time at work, and that only changed again when you showed up back in DC. So tell me what I’m supposed to think.”

“I think you’re supposed to be thinking about your AP English Lit summer assignment.”

“I mean, sure, we can talk about _Emma_ and how she was clearly a little bit in love with Harriet if you’d prefer.”

“Rao, school really is different these days. You know, back at Midvale High, they sent a girl to the principal’s office for asking if Emily Dickinson was a lesbian.”

“Oh, that sucks.” A beat. “Was she?”

“I don’t know. Maybe? Probably? But it would’ve been cool to talk about it. Might’ve helped a few people figure things out sooner.”

Carter nodded as he bit off a chunk of cone.

“You wanna tell me about whoever it is you’re up late at night texting and talking to on the phone?”

Carter’s face flushed a bright shade of pink, though he recovered admirably as he shot back, “I don’t know. You gonna tell Mom you want to marry her for real?”

“What if neither of us have to answer and instead we go people watch in Rock Creek Park?”

Carter shrugged. “Fine. Wanna go show up some of the Cross Fit bros who think they’re stronger than everyone?”

“Oh absolutely.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Kara,” Alex sighed, watching as Kara tore around the apartment with a Swiffer in one hand and a dust buster in the other. “It’s gonna be fine.”

“She’s never been over here before! I don’t need her sitting down and finding a stray Choco or something!”

“First of all, we both know you would never waste a Choco like that.” Kara glared. “Secondly, Cat isn’t going to care about a few specks of dust. She’s coming to National City to visit _you_ , not your apartment.”

“Because it would look weird if I was the one always coming to her.”

Rubbing both hands across her face, Alex muttered something about “oblivious aliens” and “pain in the ass CEOs.” She reached out a hand and drew Kara over to the sofa, carefully prying the cleaning supplies from her hand before dropping down onto the cushion next to her. “No one flies across the country to spend a two-day weekend in a studio apartment that’s maybe an eighth the size of their house just to keep up appearances. Do you know how many times you’ve been in the papers as Kara Danvers this week?”

“Well, I had a few articles come out, plus the weekly—”

“No, not by you. About you.”

“Um, I don’t know.”

“None! Zero! They literally don’t care anymore. No one’s speculating about you guys. No one wants to know why you always fly to DC. Also, knowing Cat, I’m pretty sure they all assume that’s the only way things would ever work.”

“I…”

“I get that you don’t wanna get burned again, I do.”

“I didn’t get burned.”

Alex crossed her arms and waited until Kara relented.

“Okay, fine. But Cat doesn’t know—I mean, I agreed with her, you know? When she pointed out that it had been a whole month of what was kinda supposed to be a one-time thing.”

“Yeah, and that worked out super well, huh?”

“For her!”

“Really? So all those nights you spend in DC, you two are just playing chess?”

“I…”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Taking Kara’s hand, Alex looked her square in the eyes. “I’m saying this because you’re my sister, and I love you. I am decidedly not the president of the Cat Grant Fan Club, but you’re happier when you’re spending time with her, and I’m the biggest fan in the whole world—no, the whole galaxy—of anything that makes you happy. You deserve that.”

With a little sniff, Kara rubbed at the corners of her eyes. “You’re so sappy.”

“Oh fuck off. I’m trying to give you good advice here.”

“Yeah, I know. I love you, too.”

“Now, you wanna order potstickers one last time before Cat gets here and makes you eat vegetables that aren’t fried and dunked in soy sauce?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

\---

As it turned out, Cat barely noticed the apartment.

After dropping off her luggage and checking in on CatCo, Cat dragged Kara back out, revisiting some of her favorite spots in National City. There was lunch to be eaten at a fancy restaurant whose name Kara remembered absolutely butchering her first week as Cat’s assistant. A trip to Noonan’s for a latte, center of the sun hot, for old time’s sake. A stroll along the docks as they looked out at the harbor, which no longer reeked of oil—a fact Cat was quick to point out, even if she wasn’t about to eat at any of the seafood restaurants touting their local catches. Cat was even cajoled into sitting still for long enough to enjoy the sunset from one of the benches in the new plaza that had opened up on the North side of the harbor.

“Do you ever miss National City?” Kara asked, her voice low in an attempt to preserve the tranquility of the moment.

“I miss a great many things.”

Kara nodded. “I don’t know that I could ever leave.”

Cat squeezed Kara’s hand. “It’s your city.”

Nodding up at CatCo Tower, Kara added, “It’s yours, too.”

“DC was never meant to be permanent.”

Ignoring the fluttering in her heart at the idea of having Cat _back_ , Kara asked, “Oh?”

“I needed to—needed space. A change. Something to push me.”

“Did you find it?”

Cat, who rarely hesitated, always pushing ahead and dragging everyone in her orbit along with her, paused. “Perhaps.”

Eventually, Kara’s grumbling stomach and a dinner reservation forced them up, and Cat seemed back in her element as they were led to one of her favorite tables in one of her favorite restaurants—one she’d personally sent a _Tribune_ food critic to and promoted, watching as it rose from a local attraction to a Michelin-rated restaurant.

Even with excellent food in front of her, Kara could barely focus. Not when Cat was there, touching Kara’s hand and asking her about her week and looking at her like she was something special. Kara’s whole body seemed to light up with the lightest graze of Cat’s fingers. Her heart went into overdrive when Cat’s tongue flicked out to catch a crumb on her lower lip. She barely bit back a whimper when Cat crossed her legs, bare skin brushing against Kara’s calves with the movement.

Kara had assumed she was alone in being so caught up in whatever was happening between them. After all, nothing seemed to rattle Cat. But then Cat practically threw her credit card at the waiter and dragged Kara out of the restaurant the moment she’d finished signing off on a tip.

Kara barely remembered the cab ride home—just some grumbling from Cat about how she should’ve called her old driver for the weekend, interspersed with Cat’s hand stroking up Kara’s thigh, every so often inching the hem of her dress higher and higher.

But then they were in the apartment, and no one was appreciating the hours of cleaning that had gone into getting everything to shine, though Kara couldn’t find it within herself to care. Not when Cat’s mouth was hot against hers, Cat’s hands insistent in mapping out every inch of her body.

They lost their shoes somewhere between the door and the couch.

The pins that had held Kara’s hair up were left lodged somewhere deep in between the newly crumb-free crevices of her couch cushions as Cat straddled her lap, running her hands through Kara’s hair until it cascaded down over her shoulders. Kara was fairly certain that was where her glasses had ended up as well.

Cat’s dress found a new home in the kitchen because, honestly, it was on the way to the bedroom, and the counter really was the perfect height for Cat to perch on while Kara mouthed at her breasts through a layer of thin black lace, her hands desperately clinging to Cat’s hips as they canted forward, grinding against Kara’s stomach.

Kara’s dress and underwear lay crumpled right outside her bedroom door when Cat decided she simply could not wait. “Need you—need you,” Kara had panted, and Cat really couldn’t be blamed for stripping Kara down to nothing right then and there, her fingers slipping between Kara’s legs until she was trembling in Cat’s arms.

The last of Cat’s clothing—lacy black lingerie that Kara hoped one day she’d take the time to appreciate—fell off the side of the bed as Kara mouthed down Cat’s body, worshiping her breasts and hips and thighs, every caress a silent, “I love you,” as she brought her to the edge again and again until Cat pushed at her shoulders. “I can’t—not—not again,” she managed, gulping in air as her whole body still shook and quivered with the force of her last orgasm.

Kara crawled back up the bed, curling around Cat and pressing sticky kisses all along her shoulders until her breathing had returned to normal.

“You…that was…” Cat let out a shuddering exhale. “Incredible.”

Kara preened, then gulped as Cat swung a leg over Kara’s body, pulling herself back on top of her. The look in her eyes had Kara already halfway there, and it wasn’t long before she was sobbing Cat’s name, hands fisting in the sheets and hips bucking up into Cat’s mouth.

By the time Cat had finished with her, Kara could only flop back onto the pillows, her eyes fluttering closed as Cat found her spot beside Kara.

When Cat finally pulled herself up, muttering something about wanting to shower, Kara made a show of trying to follow her, only to be pushed back down, a sheet pulled up and over her body. “Sleep. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Mkay,” Kara mumbled through a yawn.

She dozed, half-listening to the sounds of the shower and Cat humming some song she vaguely recognized, though it wasn’t until she felt the dip in the bed beside her that her body fully relaxed, starting to sink into sleep.

The last thing she remembered was Cat sweeping her hair to the side and pressing a kiss to her cheek. Then, so very softly, “I love you, Kara,” the words barely a whisper against her skin.


	4. Chapter 4

On Sunday morning, Kara woke up to the smell of coffee brewing and pancakes sizzling. All being prepared by a woman who _loved_ her. Who maybe wasn’t ready to say it in the daylight to her face, but who loved her nonetheless.

Kara was fairly certain her smile was bright enough to rival the sun as she padded out of the bedroom and swept Cat up in her arms.

“Morning,” she whispered.

Reaching a hand behind her, Cat patted at Kara’s still very naked backside. “A very good morning, indeed.”

“Mm, pancakes, coffee, a gorgeous woman in my apartment… Don’t see how it could be anything but good.”

Of course, breakfast was soon interrupted by an armed robbery, but even that couldn’t dampen Kara’s mood. (She could even hear Alex hissing over the comms to get the smile under control; apparently it wouldn’t look great to have photos of Supergirl beaming at the man actively shooting at her.)

The rest of the day passed by in a haze. They made some halfhearted attempts to leave the apartment, making it as far as the little bakery around the corner before ending up back in Kara’s bed.

“Next weekend—will you be able to make it to the East Coast?” Cat asked suddenly, her head still resting on Kara’s chest.

“Uh, yeah. I mean, barring any emergencies, I should be good.”

“Good, good.”

“Any reason?”

“As it turns out, a number of people would like to be involved in our wedding. Guaranteed publicity, a nice progressive moment for their brands, et cetera.” Cat waved her hand in the air, and Kara nodded like this was a perfectly normal thing. “A few designers have asked about having me up to New York—and you, if you’d like. I thought we might make a weekend of it. See some florists, too. And, well, you know there are a number of world-famous bakers who would just love to know what you think of their cakes.”

Kara’s head popped up at that. “Oh?”

“Mm, if it wouldn’t be too much of a bother.” But her lips had curled up into a smirk, and Kara just laughed.

“I think I could manage that.”

\---

As it turned out, cake wasn’t even the best part of the weekend. Okay, it was a close second. A really, really close second. Maybe tied for first. No, a close second.

Because nothing could beat seeing Cat in a series of dresses and tuxedos that seemed to perfectly flatter her, even before alterations or the floated idea of custom-made pieces. Kara vaguely recalled putting on dresses and suits of her own, but all of it paled in comparison to the sight of Cat, a vision in white, smiling at her from across the fanciest dressing room Kara had ever seen in her life.

“So what do you say? Is this the dress to say, ‘I do,’ in?” Cat asked, stepping out in a gown that looked like it could have come straight from the pages of one of those fairytale books that Kara had paged through, utterly enchanted, during her first year on Earth.

“You look…” But words failed her entirely. Nothing was good enough for the vision in front of her.

“Is that the dress for you?” Cat asked, gesturing back at Kara.

“Oh, uh…I like it. I mean, I know it’s kind of simple but…” She took a deep breath. “It reminds me of home. Of what I would have worn.” She’d never been the type to dream of her wedding day, and weddings had always been more about the houses than about the two individuals joining together, but she liked the idea that her dress might capture just a bit of Krypton.

Cat’s eyes shimmered as she nodded her head in understanding. “Of course. Well, you heard Donna, they’ll be more than happy to make alterations. If there’s anything that would make it more…like home. Anything at all.”

“I, uh, I know this doesn’t really fit with things here, but we wore bands—around the wrist, I mean. To symbolize a union. Obviously the ring is gorgeous, and I’m not saying—”

“Anything, Kara,” Cat repeated, her voice firm as she held Kara’s gaze.

And Kara couldn’t quite help herself as she pulled Cat in for a kiss that, even as it remained relatively chaste, may have gone on just a bit too long. At least long enough for Donna to pop her head in and exclaim, “Oh! Those must be the ones, huh?” And then they were surrounded by a team of seamstresses with pins making notes for possible alterations and tailoring that would need to be done.

\---

Kara was practically giddy all week, counting down the days until she’d see Cat again. As fun as New York had been, she was craving a few hours of quiet just to be with Cat, a chance to see Carter, a night or two spent in Cat’s ridiculously comfortable bed.

But then, Thursday night, Cat texted: “Have to cancel this weekend, sorry. Next weekend should be fine.”

Kara sent back a thumbs up and tried to sound as understanding as possible when they spoke on the phone that Friday, but she couldn’t help the decided downturn in her mood.

She had hoped a good sister night with pints of ice cream would help, but of course Alex was gone for the weekend—some last-minute work thing that she insisted didn’t require Supergirl’s assistance. And Winn and James, great as they were, could only be so helpful when they didn’t know that things with Cat weren’t exactly real. After all, they assured her, a single weekend of missing Cat would just be a blip when they were about to get married and tell the whole world they wanted to be together for the rest of their lives. Kara forced herself to smile and nod along, even when Winn started pitching ideas for Kara’s bachelorette party, which he’d decided he should probably take point on planning since Alex would just want to go play paintball or something.

By the following weekend, Kara was a nervous wreck. Cat had barely talked to her after spending the whole weekend ignoring her calls and sending her short, “Can’t talk right now,” texts in response. Maybe she’d panicked. She’d gotten feelings and decided to end things before they could get worse because that’s not what they were, not what they were supposed to be doing.

Kara debated not going. If Cat was going to call things off, she really didn’t want to fly all the way across the country just to find out. But no. She should be a mature adult and go deal with whatever was going on. Still, she texted Alex and told her to have Mr. Chen’s on speed dial and Ben and Jerry’s stockpiled in the freezer for her return.

But when Kara arrived on Friday evening, it didn’t feel like a breakup. At least, she’d never been dumped over a candlelit dinner before.

Still, her nerves weren’t exactly assuaged when Cat seemed on edge throughout the meal, lacking all of her normal poise and repeating questions she’d already asked earlier that evening.

“Okay, no, I can’t wait,” Cat finally said, pushing back her chair.

And, oh, this was a breakup. Just…the classiest breakup Kara had ever known. She thought she’d have preferred a text.

“Kara,” Cat began, stepping closer to her.

“I—it’s fine, really.”

Cat didn’t appear to be listening to a word Kara said as she shook her head. “No, let me finish.”

“Okay.” Bracing herself, Kara sat back in her seat. Her stomach churned, and she found herself wishing she’d eaten less of her dinner.

Cat dropped down to one knee.

“Kara Zor-El, I know that nothing about this proposal-fake-wedding scheme has been exactly typical, but I…I don’t know that you realize exactly how much it means to me that you offered, that you’ve been here for, well, months now.” Kara nodded slowly, trying to figure out what was happening. “I wanted to do something for you, too. So I… I spent last weekend working with your sister designing these.” It was then that Kara noticed the thin box, and Cat opened it to reveal two delicate-looking bands with inscriptions carved along them that Kara desperately wanted time to look at later, but for now, she found her gaze drifting back up to Cat’s face. “If we got it wrong, I can certainly have alterations made or start over or—”

“I love you.”

Cat stopped, her mouth opening then closing again. “The bands? They’re right? You love them?”

“I love _you_ , Cat.”

“I…”

“I know that this was all supposed to be pretend, just like two years ago was supposed to be a one-time thing, but all this time I have loved you, Cat. And I don’t want to put on those bands and act like it doesn’t mean the world to me.”

Cat leaned forward, one hand cupping Kara’s jaw as she kissed her softly—so softly, like she was something infinitely delicate, worth protecting. “I love you, Kara.” And then again and again and again between kisses: “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“We’re really bad at this fake engagement thing, huh?” Kara sniffed and wiped at her eyes as she pulled Cat into her lap.

“Screw the wedding. We don’t have to—we can start over. Whatever you want. Anything you want.”

Kara shook her head. “Nah, we’re not gonna give them the satisfaction of thinking there’s any world where I don’t want to call you my wife.” Cat smiled broadly, gently combing Kara’s hair away from her face as pressed another kiss to her lips. “So what do you say, Cat? Marry me? Because I’d really like to keep dating you. Preferably for the rest of my life.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Twitter and Tumblr @sapphicscholar
> 
> Thanks to our wonderful organizers for putting this event together!


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